


Of mice and blower fans

by Polpetta



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bellarke, Clarke is scared of a mouse, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Hope it's not terrible, I'm Bad At Tagging, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 10:27:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13292886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polpetta/pseuds/Polpetta
Summary: “Bellamy!”“What happened? I heard screams, did someone break in? Did they hurt you?” his barrage of questions was stopped by the girl.“No, worse!”“What’s worse than thieves when you’re home alone and there’s no one nearby?” he asked skeptical.“A mouse got in here!”





	Of mice and blower fans

Of mice and blowing fans 

 

“Bellamy! Bellamy it’s there! Catch it!”

“Princess I’m not a cat! And by the way this thing is fast!”

If he hadn’t been one of the scene’s main characters he would have found hilarious that situation: a girl standing on a stool who, behind him, was touching his back anxiously grabbing his shirt while handing over a tin can, demanding him to catch a mouse. All of this in the middle of the night.

“Aaah! Bellamy, it moved!” Clarke screamed in his ear.

“It moves because it’s alive..”

Unfortunately it was coming right towards them and he didn’t particularly like mice either, so he took a step back accidentally bumping into the stool Clarke stood on. Force of gravity prevailed over their attempts to stay on their feet and the two of them ended up in a tangle of limbs, from which they were quickly trying to extricate themselves spurred on by the thought of the mouse getting nearer.

“You’re heavy!” said the girl beneath him.

“Oh come on! How did I get myself into this?!” he asked rhetorically.

But he did know very well how.

 

 

It had been one of that summer’s hottest days, so sultry that even two showers didn’t manage to cool him down. He had never been able to tolerate that season’s heat, or at least not without air-conditioning ; as luck would have it, his beloved air-conditioner decided to take its last breath precisely that day. Resigned he spent the rest of the day searching for a little fresh air in his house, since going out with that high temperature was absolutely impossible for him. Nothing happened during all those hours: in the street where he lived everyone had left for the holidays, making it look like no one resided there. The only one who hadn’t gone on vacation was Clarke Griffin, _the princess_ , who had been staying in her small house all day long.

In the evening humidity increased making the bed sheets even more unbearable. At one in the morning he found himself wearing shorts on the couch with the window – unhelpfully – wide open, and TV tuned on a documentary about Roman Empire’s history he was watching absentmindedly, busy drying off droplets of sweat under his black curls.

Suddenly a scream broke the silence. Bellamy sprang on his feet without even thinking and grabbed the shirt he left on the couch as he rushed out of his house.

He recognized Clarke’s voice and, knowing her, he knew she wouldn’t have shouted without a good explanation in the dead of the night. Right away he thought of the only reason she could have done it: thieves. To prove his theory the French window in the back of the house was completely open. He mentally steeled himself for the fight as, silently, he entered the house through the open window. He’d barely been to her house, but he perfectly remembered how to get his bearings: the window he entered through gave access to the girl’s studio, filled with books and spotless canvas ready to be brought to life by expert strokes, and leaving the room he would have found himself in the living room. The door was ajar and beneath it he could see a thin ray of light.

He took a deep breath and, gritting his teeth and fists, slowly pushed the door open, getting ready for every possible scenario. What he didn’t expect to find was Clarke, the _brave_ princess, standing on the table wearing only a tank top and shorts.

As soon as she saw the guy she rushed towards him.

“Bellamy!”

“What happened? I heard screams, did someone break in? Did they hurt you?” his barrage of questions was stopped by the girl.

“No, worse!”

“What’s worse than thieves when you’re home alone and there’s no one nearby?” he asked skeptical.

“A mouse got in here!”

“…A mouse?”

“Yeah, I left the window open to make an airway and then settled on the couch to draw” she pointed at the block-notes and the pencil left behind on the sofa “and then I found that _thing_ here”

“I’m going home..” he declared heading towards the front door. He could have laughed until stomachache if it wasn’t for how afraid he had been.

“No! Bellamy please help me!” she tried to hold him by grabbing his arm.

“Clarke! Do you have the slightest idea of the scare you got me?! You don’t scream like that over a mouse!” he snapped turning towards her.

Only then he seemed to realize how worried he had been, how he feared something had happened to her, that he could have found her hurt or worse; just the idea of her tiny figure… he couldn’t even form a complete thought, _he didn’t want to_ because even though they were just fantasies the pang of emotion was damn real.

And Clarke was realizing it too.

“I’m sorry, you’re right. I shouldn’t have screamed. Just please don’t go away” she begged looking straight into his eyes.

Bellamy snorted, cursing those big blue eyes and scratching the back of his head.

“All right, I’ll help you throw it out..”

“Thank you” she hugged him on impulse.

 

 

It was crazy how Clarke was terrified by a mouse, but if she had to deal with thieves she wouldn’t even blink.

“Bellamy, what do we do? It went under the drawer” her voice was becoming whiny after several failed attempts to catch the mouse. Thankfully they’d closed all the doors so it was still in the living room, otherwise it would have been a tragedy if it went in Clarke’s room.

“Maybe I know what we can do” he said thinking “do you by any chance have a bucket and a paper tube?”

 

“I must admit this is really clever, I’m pleasantly surprised”

“Clarke give me a hand instead of flattering me” he said reaching out “hand me the towel please”

“Here. Now we just need the bait, right?” answered the girl.

“Yeah peanut butter will do, if you have any”

Both were proudly looking at the trap Bellamy set up: the paper tube was delicately balanced on the edges of the bucket on whose bottom they laid an old towel; that way the mouse, smelling their bait, would have gone to eat into the tube which, unable to support the weight, would have fallen on the towel getting stuck on the bucket’s bottom and preventing the animal’s escape.

“And how did you know how to put together this doohickey?” Clarke asked.

“Since sometimes I happened to find one or two at home I searched non-lethal traps on the internet. I occasionally read too, you know?” he said with a teasing smile.

“Jerk” she stuck her tongue out while going to get peanut butter. Once it was spread on the tube Bellamy said:

“Now we put the trap next to the drawer and wait”

While waiting they sat down on the couch; he tuned the TV on the historical channel while she stealthily sketched him on the block-notes as he had an absent expression. All of a sudden they heard the noise of the paper tube falling and they hurried to check. Seeing that it was slightly moving, sign of the mouse trying to break free, Clarke exclaimed:

“Bellamy, we did it!”

“Princess, it took three hours but we did good” he said satisfied.

It was in fact half past four and the strain from the hunt was beginning to show.

“I should get going. The safari is over..” he started.

“No, stay. You’re dead tired because of me, so now I must make it up to you” she pondered for a moment “Wait here, I’ll be right back” she said and left him alone in the living room, with his eyelids closing against his will.

He sat on the couch straining to stay awake. Luckily Clarke came back before long carrying a blower fan in her arms.

“Since you’re staying I went to get this, so we’ll keep ourselves cool. And for tomorrow I invite you for lunch, if you’re not busy” as she spoke she positioned the device beside the sofa and plugged it in.

“Clarke, believe me, even just this is more than enough” he replied inebriated by the blow of cold air.

She chuckled sitting next to him in the cool air.

“No seriously, mine is broken and I was literally melting back at home” he went on leaning against the backrest.

“I would never want the rest of the world have to do without Bellamy Blake, so my blowing fan will always be available for you” she teased while turning down the volume of the television and getting more comfortable on the couch.

“Well, I guess I’ll hold to that” he yawned turning his head towards her “it looks like we’ll see each other very often this summer princess”

Clarke turned around to those words, her heart skipping a beat, and saw he fell asleep.

She watched closely – nearly hypnotized – his features sprinkled with freckles, his full lips now slightly open, eyelashes she had never noticed being this long, the black curls which often cast a shadow on his face or got into his eyes just to be moved out of the way with an annoyed movement. She thought about how easy it would have been drawing him again in such a closeness, grasp every shade of his olive skin, or his eyebrows’ tilt angle, chronically knitted when awake, while in that moment he had a calm expression; he looked like a child and gave the impression of a peaceful and dreamless sleep.

Almost unconsciously she moved nearer him to get a closer look at the shadows his hair cast under the warm and dim light coming from the lamp in the living room, worried he could have woken any second and surprise her staring at him like a _psychopath_ , but he didn’t move a muscle and his face was still towards her.

Unfortunately Clarke began to feel the tiredness of that – endless – day now, and her heavy eyelids struggled to stay open and allow her eyes to watch Bellamy. She decided giving up to the need to sleep and, without thinking, she snuggled up against the guy’s warm body who, surprising her, instinctively got even closer letting her rest on his shoulder and put his head on hers.

She fell asleep in a heartbeat, lulled by Bellamy’s steady breath, with his pulse in her ears, their warm hands brushing up against each other almost as they moved closer according to their own will, and hopeful – maybe too much, she told herself – in those last words.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hi I'm back!  
> Thank you for reading, I hope it wasn't too bad.  
> Again, since english isn't my first language please let me know if I made some typos/mistakes (verb tenses are hell, soo confusing) and if you have some advice, I really wanna improve my english.  
> Also Happy New Year!!


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